Only Unofficial Life
by hitchcock-starlet
Summary: ."My plan to undermine Arthur is underway. Soon Uther will detest the sight of his own son." A more brutal way that Beauty and the Beast could have played out. Arthur bears the brunt of his father's enchanted anger. Arthur angst abounds; NO SLASH HERE!
1. Chapter I

**A/N**: Hello! This is my first Merlin fanfic and I am quite excited about it. There's definitely not enough slash-free Arthur angst out there, so for those of you that crave it - voila! Please leave a review and let me know what you think - I'd really like to continue! **For those of you who had me on your watch list from previous stories,** I hope you're not too disappointed by the jump in fandom. If you haven't watched Merlin, you should definitely give it a try! Dedicated to (and hopefully a lovely surprise for) Halcyon Impulsion!

**Summary and about the story:** "My plan to undermine Arthur is underway. Soon Uther will detest the sight of his own son." A more frightening way that Beauty and the Beast could have played out as Arthur bears the brunt of his father's enchanted anger. Plenty of Arthur angst abounds! NOT SLASH!

There's going to be a bit of revisiting on some of the scenes in Sleeping Beauty Part II, and a few changes to the way the episode played out. Stick with me, it should get pretty good. Rated T for violence, could be rated higher later on depending on how it plays out. Enjoy!

* * *

Arthur had always thought that if his father ever fell in love, he would be happy for him. Surely the king deserved a queen, and as a man who had lost his wife years before, the companionship of another. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't be happy for Uther and his newfound queen, Katrina.

It wasn't just the change in mood that his father presented, nor the randomly unreasonable things that he suddenly demanded. Even before things began to change, Arthur thought that the love that bloomed between the king and the homeless noble had done so far too fast.

Arthur had always been the only person that Uther cared for, ever since his mother had died at his birth. Surely he couldn't be replaced so quickly?

But as the days wore on, the prince's doubts grew, his comfort unsettled. The day his father told Arthur that he was to collect an unreasonable amount of extra taxes from the people, it solidified the knot of impending doom that had begun to form in the pit of the prince's stomach.

The day he witnessed the brutality of the knights trying to force the extra dues out of the peasants made him feel downright ill. It wasn't right.

It wasn't right.

He overturned his father's orders in front of his men, in front of the people, despite the fact that he knew he would have to face the wrath of the king. Any punishment he would receive was no worse than this sick feeling that had overcome him at what the king was doing to Camelot.

Or so he thought.

His father's wrath, indeed. Uther was just as angry as Arthur had expected, and there seemed to be no talking sense to the man - especially with his queen at his side.

"Is it so un_rea_sonable for a king to expect his subjects to obey him?" Queen Katrina snapped at Arthur, her belittling tone infuriating him.

"They'll starve!" He protested in disbelief.

The pendant on Uther's chest flashed dangerously, but remained unnoticed. "Nonsense," the king said, standing from his throne. "You've grown too soft. Remember these are your subjects, not your friends."

Arthur looked from Katrina to Uther, his brow knotted in upset. "Why can't they be both?"

"Because we rule the people, not the other way around."

Arthur shook his head and lowered his eyes. "I think you're wrong."

"I beg your pardon?" Uther asked incredulously as he took a few steps down towards his son.

"I said you're wrong. Without the people, there is no Camelot. We're as much their servant as they are ours."

"You allow him to address you in this manner?" Queen Katrina stood from her own throne and stepped forwards behind Uther's back. She glared at the prince from over the king's shoulder, and Arthur glared back.

"No I do not." A flicker of fear lit through Arthur as his father's tone became suddenly angrier. "It will not be tolerated. You will take your men down into the town and go to every house, collecting the payments I demand!"

Arthur lowered his eyes for a moment, trying to compose his emotions as a dignified prince should. He looked back at his father with determination. "I will not."

If Uther was surprised in any way at his son's rebellious response, he did not show it. In that moment, the stone on the king's necklaced flashed again, flooding the man with some more passionate magic.

Arthur had no chance to think, or even react, as his father's fist pulled back and just as quickly slammed into the young prince's face. Stumbling backwards from the force, Arthur tripped and fell onto his backside, his head turned from the momentum. A deadly silence took over the space, and had anyone else other than the three royals been in the room, they would have seen the malicious grin that slid easily onto Queen Katrina's face.

Arthur lifted a hand to his face, covering his swiftly swelling left eye. He looked up at the king in what resembled horror, his mouth parted in shock.

"Get out of my sight." The words that fell from Uther to the prince at his feet dripped with venom.

Without another word, Arthur pushed himself to his feet and hastily left the throne room. He did not look back.

* * *

It seemed to take forever for the prince to reach his quarters. His legs did not seem to want to work the way that he wished, making the distance seem further and further with each step.

Finally back in his room, he slammed the door shut behind him and stood frozen in the middle of the room. His whole body was shivering, his mind unable to comprehend what exactly had just transpired.

His father had just hit him. He had hit him, for doing what Arthur knew what was right.

He carefully lowered himself down into his chair. His freshly-wounded eye stung painfully, pricking tears of betrayal that he would now, and always, deny. What was happening? What was happening to his father, to Camelot? Catching his men trying to violently force money out of that old man in the street had scared him. He did not want to be part of a rule that oversaw that kind of behavior.

His father had _used_ to feel the same way. Something had to be going on with Uther. It was the only explanation. A great and honorable king didn't just suddenly up and change his views on everything in life from the loyalty of his subjects to...

To the trust of his son.

Then again, Arthur had never witnessed his father in love before. Perhaps he had underestimated the power of his father's feelings, the power that the Lady - _no, the Queen_, Arthur thought vehemently - Katrina held over him.

Whatever it was, Arthur just wanted the nightmare to end, and for everything to go back to normal.

Most of the rest of the day swam by as if he were in a thick fog. Some part of his mind had Arthur convinced that he was, indeed, dreaming, and that everything that was happening would be gone by the morning.

When Gwen came by, he forced himself to straighten up, to calm down. He brushed his reddened eye off as a training wound. Somehow, her presence helped with his nerves, but still he couldn't help the sullenness and dejection from leaking out into words. He almost scoffed at her when she told him she thought that the king loved him.

Arthur was beginning to doubt that it were true.

Still, Guinevere's words brought a little bit of hope to his heart, and by the time he was called back to the throne room for the meeting, he had completely calmed himself. Hiding his eye as best as he could behind his bangs, he felt that he was ready to face his father once more.

The shock of Uther's newest announcement, however, nearly undid him.

"You are to be disinherited. With immediate effect."

… _What?_ The young man could have sworn that his heart had stopped. He wavered on the spot.

"You are no longer crown prince of Camelot."

The unmistakable hurt caused by the king's words could not be hidden as Arthur looked his father in the eyes and all but pleaded for the man to come to his senses.

"My decision is final."

The words tore a hole in Arthur. They echoed in his mind as he stood there, over and over, and a cold hand clenched his stomach and his heart tighter with every moment spent in Uther's presence. The prince stood there, his eyes swimming, his head spinning, searching for any stroke of doubt upon his father's face, for any spark of the man whom Arthur thought that he was.

He wanted to say something more. He wanted to scream at the man, to demand answers to the questions that assaulted his thoughts relentlessly. _What did I do?!_ His heart cried out. _What has happened to you?!_

Words didn't come, however, and Arthur dropped his head in defeat. Even if he was no longer to inherit the crown, he was the king's son, and would show one last bit of dignity as his life was being ripped away. His questions could remain unanswered, because it was obvious that his father had made up his mind. Arthur turned and left the court for the recluse of his quarters once more.

By the time he had been pulled from his room for the crowning ceremony, Arthur's entire body had gone cold. The fog he drifted through had thickened, and it allowed him to repress his feelings deep down to be hidden from others during the very public affair. He couldn't even find the strength to be humiliated in front of everyone, as his father gave away his inheritance to a stranger he barely knew.

Only when Katrina's true nature was revealed did Arthur's quiet detachment break.

A troll. She was a troll _all along_! The shock of the discovery caused him to forget what had transpired between himself and his father, and his jaw dropped as he gawked at the hideous creature.

Uther, it seemed, did not even notice. Even when she ripped the door to her chamber off its hinges, the king did not seem to realize that he was, in fact, married to a ghastly magical creature.

"Stop it! Haven't you hurt her feelings enough? Insult my wife again and it will be the last thing you ever do."

Arthur didn't even know which way was up anymore. At least he was no longer alone. Everyone who had witnessed the event finally wandered off in a confused stupor, unsure of how to proceed with the subject.

He heard that later on, Gaius and some members of the court had attempted to approach his father about the deceptive troll, but their efforts were denied.

His father was enchanted. That was the only answer. There was magic at work within the castle's walls - troll magic, apparently - and Uther's erratic behavior was a result of it.

The realization should have come to Arthur as a relief, but as he sat in the chair in his room, he felt himself weighed down even more heavily with worry and gloom. Perhaps the horrible things that his father had said to him - had done to him - were due to Katrina's magic, but the problem still remained. Uther was married to a troll, and that troll was to inherit the throne to Camelot.

Running a hand through his already tussled blond hair, he lay his head back heavily against the wooden seat. He knew that something needed to be done about Uther's current situation, but he found himself doubting his ability to be the one to bring sense to the king, to break the spell. Whether it was his father's earlier words, or the air of helplessness that blanketed the town like low-riding clouds, he wasn't exactly sure.

His eye throbbed painfully against his head, a melancholy reminder of Arthur's earlier encounter with Uther, and of the prince's self-doubt.

Suddenly, something Gwen had told him earlier pawed at his troubled mind. He tried to remember her kind words; the thought of her soft voice flooding him with warmth.

"You've a kind heart, Arthur. Don't ever change. Not for anyone."

The memory brought the smallest of smiles to his lips. Her comfort had been completely undeserved, and yet, she always seemed to say the right thing.

Perhaps Gwen was right. Now was not the time for brooding, but the time for action. It was what he normally would do.

After taking a moment to gather up some resolve, and to push away the insecurity that was gnawing at his mind, Arthur pushed himself up out of his chair and left the room.


	2. Chapter II

**A/N:** I'm back! I've got the ball rolling on this one, so hopefully chapters won't be _too _far in between each other. Healthy dosage of reviews _do _help with motivation, though! You know... just so you know. Speaking of reviews, I'd like to thank **scifigirl**, **Nightwatcher'sunknowngirl**, **Pendragon.P a s s i o n.**, **Mel1991 **and **Halcyon Impulsion** for the reviews. They're almost as tasty as coffee!

**Warnings**: I tend to like to beat around the characters I'm writing about. If you're not into this, you might want to move on! Rated T for violence.

**Enjoy**!!

* * *

Arthur raised his hand to knock on the door to his father's chambers, but despite himself, he froze. He bit back a wave of fear, disgusted by the thought of it. Despite all that had transpired, he was still the king's son, still rightful prince to Camelot. He had a duty to perform, and right now, that duty was his father.

He had waited nervously until he knew that his father was alone in his room, and that the festering scum of a creature was nowhere in sight. Still, Arthur found himself hesitating.

Finally he swallowed, pushing his thoughts and the sting of his half-swollen eye to the back of his mind, and rapped on the heavy wooden door.

"What is it?" Uther's voice bellowed from the other side, seemingly annoyed by the intrusion.

Arthur took a deep breath and pushed open the door. His father stood by the king's bed, where he had just begun to undress for the night's sleep.

"Sire." Arthur greeted respectfully, bowing his head.

"It's you." The distaste in the king's voice was not subtle, and Arthur winced at the bite in the words. Uther turned from his son and placed his crown in the pillow-bottomed chest that it rested in every night. "What do you want?"

After only a moment's hesitation, Arthur held his head higher and walked closer to his father. "Father, I am here to talk to you about your… wife."

With a snarl, Uther turned his son, his eyes flashing with an other-worldly rage. "You have no right to talk to me about the Queen Katrina."

Frustrated, Arthur raked a hand through his hair. "Have you gone _mad_?" He exclaimed, emotions getting the best of him. "She's a troll! A god-forsaken troll! Why can't you see that?!"

Uther took a menacing step towards his son, but the young man did not back down. "I have had enough with this troll business!" The king roared, his powerful voice hard on his son's ears. "I am not blind, and you will not speak to me this way!"

"You're enchanted, Father! You must be!" Arthur shouted back, desperation leaking into his already strained voice. "Please, why can't you see it? Why can't you see her?"

"I will not have you talk to me in this manner, Arthur Pendragon!" Uther bellowed.

"And I will do anything to make you see! You're making a fool out of yourself, Dad! She's got magic! You hate magic!"

"I am _warning_ you, Arthur, say another word about my wife and you will rue the day you were born."

Arthur swallowed, and tried to quell the shaking in his limbs, his voice. "Father, I refuse to stand by while she ruins your life. _She. Is. A. Troll_."

The hit came out of nowhere, the forceful slap taking Arthur by surprise as Uther's backhand split his lower lip. The prince gasped, his face snapping back to look at his father in surprise. He took a stumbling step backwards as his father came at him again. Before Arthur had time to even contemplate what was happening, Uther's fist drove into his stomach, bringing Arthur to his knees.

"I've had enough of your insolence!" Uther shouted, grabbing a fistful of Arthur's blonde hair. Dizzy, Arthur looked up at his father through blurriness, the hurt and betrayal in his eyes unmistakable, but aptly ignored. "I will have no more disrespect out of you!"

With all of the power that could be conjured from the king, he kicked his son squarely in the chest, sending Arthur flying backwards, sliding to a quick stop on the stone floor. The prince lay there on his back, shaking and gasping in the shock of what had just happened.

"Get out, Arthur, before you push me some more." Uther growled, the pendant that rested on his chest glowing its bright crimson.

Arthur tried to get his limbs to move, but they refused to listen. He gripped the rug that was under his hand, willing himself to get up off the floor.

"I said NOW!"

His father's frightening yell was all that the prince needed to get his body working again. Without another word, or even a look at the king, Arthur pushed himself up off of the floor and stumbled out of the chambers.

Unable to close the door behind him, the prince practically fell into the hallway, his heart thudding painfully against his sore ribs. He ignored the guards that were just down the passage, and with his head ducked low, he made his way as quickly as he could to his own room.

It wasn't until he was behind the safety of his chamber doors that he collapsed on the floor. Holding his arms against his aching chest and stomach, he gasped for breath, his lungs shakily heaving from the pain and the panic that was rushing through him.

It had to be a dream. It had to be.

His father hadn't struck him since Arthur was a child. The young prince had stolen a jewel that he had fancied, and swore that he hadn't taken it. Uther had discovered that his son had been lying, and just like today, he had backhanded Arthur across the face.

Immediately ridden with guilt, his father apologized to him.

"_I'm sorry, Arthur, I should not have hurt you."_

_Six-year-old Arthur stood shaking and sniffling, holding a hand to his swelling face. Tears streamed down his pink cheeks as he looked at his father in fear._

"_Arthur, you are my son, but I am also your king." Uther had said, his voice taking a soft and almost comforting tone. "I promise to never hit you again if you always try your best to please me, and to please the kingdom." The king held out his arms to his boy. "Do you promise?"_

_Arthur nodded. "I promise, father." _

And he had. He had honestly tried his best his whole life, to please his father, to do well for Camelot.

But it had never been good enough before. It was definitely not good enough now. Perhaps it wasn't the enchantment, forcing his father to speak in strange and hurtful ways. Perhaps it was Uther's true feelings shining through.

At those razor-sharp thoughts, Arthur unknowingly gripped himself tighter.

He didn't know how long it was that he sat on the floor with his back to the door. He struggled to get his confused emotions and shaking limbs under control. Every breath seemed to hurt, streaming fire not only through his chest and abdomen, but through his heart.

Finally, after a long while, his breathing had slowed. Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping away wetness that he hadn't realized was there. Slowly and carefully he pushed himself up off of the floor, and made his way to the bedside.

Trying to keep his mind blank, he began the tedious task of undressing his sore body. The sun had long since set; the perpetual nightmare of a day was finally at an end. Tomorrow could only get better.

Hopefully.

Arthur had just finished pulling off the last of his shirts when he caught his reflection in the full-length mirror against his wall. The sight of his battered body caused him to freeze, his shirt still gripped in his hand. Slowly, he walked towards the looking glass.

The bruise that covered his left eye had bloomed into a deep shade of purple; it would be nearly impossible to hide now. The right side of his bottom lip was split and swollen, and a dark dribble of blood made a mark down the side of his cheek.

Angry red welts mottled his chest and stomach, only guidelines of the damage that had been inflicted. From his intensive training experiences, Arthur knew that there would be major ugly bruising on that part of his body as well. He only hoped that his ribs were not cracked—he was in no mind to talk over what had just happened to anyone, even the court's trusted physician. No, he would rather suffer a long and painful healing process.

Perhaps he would even welcome it.

A sudden knock on the door brought him out of his dark thoughts with a start, his muddled mind unable to comprehend immediately what the sound was. Before he could react, his bedroom door was pushed open.

Merlin nearly bounced into the room, his hopes high after talking with the dragon. He was about to go tell Gaius of his findings, but decided to stop in and tell his friend the good news first.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked out loud, his eyes tracing the room for the prince. He froze when he saw Arthur, though, his spirits falling faster than they had risen.

The prince looked like a rabbit cornered by a ravenous predator. His knuckles were white against the dark colour of the shirt he squeezed in his hands, and the completely unshielded look in his eyes took Merlin's breath away. He was certain that only one person could be responsible for the fresh wounds on his friend's body, and it most likely accounted for the raw emotion emanating from those blue orbs.

"Oh Arthur…" Merlin took a couple of steps towards the prince, his heart aching in sympathy.

"Don't." Brought out of his shock by Merlin's words, Arthur immediately turned and headed towards his dresser, pulling out a rarely-worn night shirt.

"Arthur, I'm so sorry-"

"I said _don't_!" Arthur shouted, his face colouring more from shame than anger. He hastily threw the shirt over his head, unintentionally grunting when he inevitably jostled his injuries.

Merlin swallowed, unsure of how to proceed. What he had seen of Arthur's injuries was enough to know that the prince should be tended to by Gaius. But pushing Arthur too far would create the opposite of the desired effect; the contusions and lacerations barely even touching what Uther had probably done to his son's mindset.

"Please," Merlin started slow and soft, as if talking to a small child, "Let me go get Gaius—"

"No!" Arthur exclaimed, his panic taking both of them by surprise. He immediately looked away again, unable to look Merlin in the eye.

"But you're hurt…"

"I'm fine." Arthur's voice was quiet, if not somewhat determined. Another pause came over them, Merlin staring at the prince and Arthur looking anywhere but back at him.

Realizing that he wasn't going to be able to change Arthur's mind, Merlin switched the subject. Brightening, he closed the distance between the two. "I've found a way to break the enchantment!"

Arthur's response was surprisingly unenthusiastic, dejected. "Oh?" His tone set Merlin's worry up another notch.

Not to be deterred, Merlin nodded. "There's a potion that Gaius must administer. It requires the root of a special plant out in the forest, but the enchantment _will_ be broken.

"I will leave at once to find the root. Gaius has all of the other ingredients."

After a small silence, Arthur nodded. "Will you need any help?"

"No, I should be fine. I don't think the root is too hard to find. I hope to be back as early as tomorrow night."

"Alright then… take your leave as long as it takes."

Merlin smiled, happy at the thought of doing something to help. He turned on his heels and headed back towards the door.

"Oh and Merlin?"

The warlock paused and looked over his shoulder at the prince on the bed.

Arthur stole a glance up at his manservant under thick blond bangs. "Thanks."

Merlin just smiled and nodded his understanding, and then he was gone.


	3. Chapter III

**A/N**: Hai! And welcome to Chapter III. Thanks SO MUCH to my reviewers: **Pendragon.P a s s i o n.**, **Mel1991**, **MerlinStar**, **Nightwatcher'sunknowngirl** and **scifigirl**. You guys are great, this chapter is for you!

Warnings remain the same: T for violence. In other words, more Arthur whumpage. Yay!

* * *

Light was creeping along the ground around the buildings of Camelot by the time Merlin was finally on his way into the forest to find the root that Gaius needed. The deep hues of the woods were splashed with an early-morning glow, aiding in Merlin's positive mood and attempting to strike away his worries for Arthur.

He had taken a short nap, at Gaius' insistence, before gathering the things that he would need for his journey. Mostly, Merlin had to make sure that he had enough food and water to last him a couple of days - although the dragon had told him generally where he could find the root that Gaius needed, it was more than half a day's walk and could take a bit of time to find.

The root, apparently, was a popular ingredient in troll potions and other magic. It was the only thing that the dragon knew could break the enchantment on Uther – the only thing that could save Camelot.

Merlin suddenly fought to right himself after tripping over a dip in the earth, but barely noticed. He only hoped that he could find the ingredient and get it back to Gaius before the king could do anything else that he would soon regret, or even worse, before Uther was killed by Katrina for the throne.

The image of a battered Prince Arthur assaulted Merlin's mind with a start. He felt a sharp sting of pity for his friend. It was already enough that the young man fought daily for his father's approval through his actions as a proactive and noble prince, but to now be the target of Katrina's plan to take over Camelot? It was hardly fair.

Never before had the warlock seen his friend so sullen, so quiet. He was very, very worried about him. The craving to quell Camelot's - and Arthur's - troubles increased, and Merlin picked up the pace he was forging over the damp brown earth. He was not going to let the kingdom down.

* * *

The sun was towering over the town of Camelot, its heat and light a stark contrast to the cool confusion and uncertainty that was happening within the palace walls. Arthur sat on his windowsill, staring blankly down at the bustling village below. It was a strange sight, to see so many people busy about their day, while Arthur felt like he might never move again.

He hadn't left his chambers since the moment he woke up. For the longest time he lay in bed, staring at the stone ceiling, questioning what was real, wondering if it all had been just a dream. The ache in his ribs at any slight movement, however, proved his hopes wrong.

No one came to wake him; no one came to get him for lunch. With Merlin gone, he hadn't even been brought something to eat. Not that it mattered. Arthur doubted he could stomach any sort of food at the moment anyway.

He wondered half-heartedly what his father was up to. Perhaps he was dismissing all of the knights and bringing in trolls to defend his great kingdom? At this point, nothing could take the prince by surprise.

Except, perhaps, how easy it was for him to just sit around and to not do anything about it. An apathetic mood had filled his insides like never before, a dark and greedy sap that had either come about through his own doing or something more subconscious. He wasn't sure.

He didn't care.

In the distance, he could see Gwen emerge from her humble home to undoubtedly join Morgana for the day. Part of him ached for her to visit him. Part of him hoped that she didn't.

A cry down below suddenly stole his thoughts away from the servant girl, and he scanned the surrounding roads and buildings with confusion. Finally, his eyes fell upon the disturbance - a scuffle at the other end of the courtyard.

The sight took him by surprise, and a wave of fury shot through him. There, amongst a small crowd of Camelot's peasants, were two of his knights. One of them, a man he recognized as Jacoby, had his hand on the arm of a young child, prying the little girl away from her parents' desperate grasps. The second man, whom he couldn't recognize at the distance, was holding back the father.

The knights were no doubt doing the best within their demands to fulfill the king's tax expectations once more.

Without thinking, Arthur pushed himself away from the window, dashing out of his chambers. Forgetting about his wounds, he nearly fell as he rounded the corner in the hallway a little too fast. Within no time he was bursting out of the front gate and running towards the scene.

He skidded to a halt in front of the two knights. "What do you think you are _doing_?" He demanded in an authoritative voice.

The two knights looked up at their prince with such surprise and shock that they both dropped their arms at their sides. Angered at their gawking, Arthur took another step forward. Suddenly, he realized how he must have looked - not only had he not dressed for the day, but no one had previously seen the damage that was inflicted upon him by his father.

What a great and noble prince he was now.

Trying to dissolve the humiliation from his face, he lifted his chin a bit higher. "I demand you to tell me what you are doing."

Conflicted and apologetic, Jacoby was the one to speak. "I'm sorry, my lord, but your father -- the king -- he demands that we get the taxes from the people, by any means possible."

Arthur could see the sincere regret in the faces of his men, but part of him was still disappointed and downright disgusted at their behavior.

_It's not them_, he reminded himself before he did or said anything too rash, i_t's your father._

This couldn't be happening. If any of the knights were brave enough to stand up to Uther in this state, they would surely be beheaded. Yet due to their actions, it would not take long for the people to despise their king and to loathe the royal guard.

Ruling a peaceful kingdom was a strenuous line of barbed wire as it was. Uther had pushed his limits over the wrong end, and it was going to take more than just an enchantment-ridding potion to cure Camelot's weakened unification.

"Stop what you are doing, immediately!" He shouted at Jacoby and the second knight, Shelley.

"But sire, your father!" Shelley protested. "He would have our heads…"

"You know that this isn't right!" Arthur insisted. "This has to stop!"

"Please, Prince Arthur," Jacoby's voice was quieter but still insistent. "Please don't make us get into trouble."

Arthur opened his mouth to speak again, but he was cut off by a bellowing voice behind him.

"_Arthur!_"

Uther's unhindered ruthless tone caused Arthur to unintentionally wince in fear. _Damn it, Arthur_, he hissed inwardly, _be a man_.

Recovering from his hopefully unobserved recoil, the prince held his head high and turned to face his king, who was striding towards him.

If the sound of his father's voice hadn't set a tremble back into Arthur's limbs, then surely the wrathful flash of the king's eyes would have. All of the peasants, the two knights, and even the guards that had accommodated Uther kept several paces back from the king and his son.

"What. Are. You. Doing." The words dripped from Uther's mouth with such a deliberate edge, it was a wonder that Arthur didn't start to bleed from some part of his body right on the spot.

With only a slight moment's hesitation to gather his wits, Arthur resolved to remain strong. "This has to stop, father. Enchantment or no enchantment, what you are doing is _wrong_."

"I am the ruler here! It is I who decides what is right and what is wrong!" The king's voice echoed throughout the buildings of Camelot, all of which had seemed to have become deadly silent.

"He was stealing their little girl!" Arthur panted in exasperation, gesturing towards the peasant family in question. He had never felt so desperate in his life. "There is nothing good or just about this!"

"Guards!" Uther snapped, his eyes never leaving the prince before him. "Apprehend him!"

There was a moment of silence as the knights visibly hesitated—the thought of arresting the king's son was one of downright horror.

"_What_ are you waiting for?" Uther's gaze broke from his son only long enough to shoot daggers at the closest knight. It was all the guard needed to snap into action; within mere seconds they were at Arthur's side, restraining him.

Arthur let out a cry of pain as his arms were twisted behind his back, shoving his chest forward uncomfortably and driving shards of agony through his ribs. He fell forward onto his knees with the force, gritting his teeth.

Uther's eyes scanned the crowd and settled on whatever it was that he was looking for. He strode towards the stable-keeper and grabbed the object out of the frightened man's hands with a growled, "Give me that!"

The king took a few steps back towards the center of the courtyard. "Bring him here," he commanded, and as the two knights that gripped arms drug him closer to his father, Arthur's eyes went wide when he saw what Uther was holding.

"You... you can't be serious..." The unhidden fear that shot through the young prince caused his voice to shake.

Uther looked down at his son with a look that could only be described as malicious. He gave the whip a snap, years of riding and training as fresh in his mind and limbs as if it were yesterday. "I told you earlier that those who refused to obey me would be arrested and publicly flogged." He looked back up, scanning the crowd with dark eyes. "Let the people see, that even my son is not above the punishment for disobeying my demands!

"Turn him around."

"No!" Arthur cried out suddenly, his heels digging into the ground to prevent his body from being maneuvered. With newfound energy, he thrashed around, making it difficult for the knights to even keep a hold on him, let alone follow out the king's orders.

The prince fell from their gloved grips, and immediately they were on top of him, jamming their knees into his back and forcing his face into the dirt. He struggled against their rough hands, aghast at how weak he felt, gasping in pain. Finally he ran out of steam, collapsing under their weight, panting into the ground like a wild animal.

After a moment, as if to test his resolve, the two knights finally hauled Arthur back to his knees. The prince looked up at his father, his eyes bleary with a hurt that he never before felt in his life. He searched his father's cold orbs, but all that seemed to do was seep hopelessness throughout Arthur's entire being.

"Please don't do this," He begged, all dignity and heroics lost.

It was all a nightmare. It had to be.

Uther nodded at the guards. "Turn him around."

The silence of the town was shattered by the sound of the whip. The crowd looked on in horror, gasping with every strike. Arthur only cried out once, the first time, the pain and shock of the lashing swallowing him whole. But afterwards, his body shut down as if a curtain had fallen over his senses. His eyes dulled before they squeezed shut, and for the rest of the beating, he was no longer in the horrible nightmare that insisted on playing out. He was somewhere else, very far away—somewhere without responsibilities and betrayal and fathers.


	4. Chapter IV

**A/N:** Hey everyone! I am so sorry this update took so long - I got very, very involved with watching the Olympics and it pretty much stole all of my time away. Congrats to everyone and their countries on their achievements!

Same rating applies for this chapter. Enjoy, and don't forget to let me know what you thought of it!

* * *

Arthur couldn't remember when he was brought back to his bedroom, but the resounding _click_ of the lock on the outside of his door reverberated in his mind as he lay on his stomach on his bed. He stared, unseeing, at a mark on the wall, the throbbing of his entire body swelling any thoughts from his mind.

Hours after he had been returned to his chambers, Gaius came through the door. The physician was accompanied by an entire bag full of god knew what sort of elixirs and potions and tools. Arthur stared blearily up at him out of the corner of his eye, but made no response to the arrival.

Gaius gazed sadly down at the young man, wincing as the lock was fastened once more on the door behind him. The events that were unfolding behind palace walls were some of the worst the physician had met in his life. He wondered, unabashedly, whether or not the enchantment on Uther could be broken if Katrina was assassinated. Although he obviously didn't believe that all creatures of magic were evil, Katrina undoubtedly was. Things needed to get back to normal, and they needed to _fast_.

"Alright, Arthur," Gaius said softly as he stood over the prince in his bed, "Let me tend to those wounds."

Arthur turned his head to face the opposite direction. "Go away Gaius," he mumbled. "I'm fine."

The sullen words brought a small smile to Gaius' lips as he was suddenly flooded with memories of the prince as a child. Albeit hard to believe, a youngster Prince Arthur had been just as stubborn, if not more so. The physician had received plenty of trouble from the royal child due to pranks, general grumpiness, and refusal to take medicine.

"_Go away!" The young voice was trying to be authoritative, but the pout to his words was anything but. Arthur crossed his arms and flopped his face down into his pillow._

_Gaius tried not to laugh at the child Arthur. When he remembered how Uther had yelled at his son, however, he found it a bit easier. "Now, now, Arthur… your father sent me, and you know that I must do as he asks."_

"_I'm fine!" _

_The response had been muffled to the point that Gaius could barely make it out. The physician sat on the edge of the bed and gave the prince a reassuring pat. "Your father loves you, Arthur, and he just wants to make sure you're okay."_

"_He wants to punish me!" Arthur sat up, tears swimming in his bright blue eyes. "He does _not_ love me!"_

_The physician found himself feeling bad for the boy. Uther had not been kind in his words as he yelled at Arthur in the throne room. The seven-year-old had taken one of the knight's swords from the armoury, and had dashed off into the forest to fight "the bad people." During the adventure, he had tripped in a fit of clumsiness worthy of Merlin, and sliced open a five-inch gash on his leg._

"_Of course he loves you," Gaius told him as he rolled up the leg of the boy's pants and began to treat the wound._

"_I just… I just wanted to help. I wanted to make him proud of me!"_

The words had made Gaius' stomach clench, much in the same way that it was now.

It was amazing how fast time had slipped by over life in the kingdom, its slippery shadow elusive. For once, however, Gaius hoped that the next few days would go rather quickly, and that Camelot would be restored to its normal order.

Gaius set his things down on the floor and walked over to the fireplace. The afternoon was falling fast, and a chill was beginning to settle into the room. Quietly he built a fire for the prince, allowing the warming orange glow to soak into his weary bones.

Finally he settled his gaze back onto the prince, who was looking back at him once more. Gaius gave a kindly smile. "Come on, sire, I won't be long, and you can't allow those lacerations to get infected. Then I'll have to treat them with even more care, and it won't be nearly as pleasant."

He took Arthur's silence as permission to continue.

Pulling the prince's chair away from the table and to the bedside, Gaius sat down with a pair of scissors and proceeded to cut away Arthur's shirt form his back. Merely pulling off the shirt would have been both painful and possibly harmful to the jagged injuries. The prince gave no response to his actions, save for a gasp of breath here and there.

There were many lash marks on the young man's back – Gaius guessed there to be as many as twelve. He frowned and stood, heading towards the bucket of water that always remained filled by servants in case the prince wanted a bath. He poured the water into a pot and placed it in the fire to warm. After a few minutes it was as warm as he needed, and he returned to the bedside with the pot, a brush, and some soap.

Tenderly he washed Arthur's wounds, trying politely not to notice the trembling that had started to take over the prince's body. When he was satisfied that the lacerations were clean and that there was no lingering material left in the wounds, Gaius spoke.

"Let's get you up and take off your shirt, now, Arthur."

Once more the prince didn't respond, and Gaius' frown deepened. "Come on." He said in a soft, gentle voice, and carefully began to maneuver the prince into an upright position. Arthur didn't resist.

When he had pulled Arthur's shirt over the prince's head, Gaius bit back a gasp. There, on the prince's chest and stomach, was a colourful and dark assortment of bruising. "Arthur," he began, trying to hold back the parental reproaching that he felt overcoming his tongue, "What happened?"

The young man's blue eyes met Gaius' only briefly before looking away again. His pale face flickered in the firelight, the sun now completely stolen from the skies. His blonde hair was unkempt, his black eye and split lip out of place, and he looked all the world like the little boy Gaius remembered from a decade or so ago.

Knowing that any other sort of response was not forthcoming, Gaius gave a small sigh and studied the bumps and bruises. They looked to be the result of some sort of impact, of which the physician knew better than to ask of. He ran his hand over the prince's chest, prodding gently where he needed to as Arthur winced in discomfort.

"I don't think there's anything broken, and it's unlikely that any of your ribs are cracked." Gaius informed the young man. He dug through his bag. "I'll leave you with this painkiller if it gets to be too much."

Arthur looked over at him, his face a perfect mask of blankness. He nodded his appreciation.

"Now lay back down, I have to finish with your back."

The prince did as he was told, and Gaius went about applying a poultice to the lashings to help prevent infection. He finished quickly and efficiently, feeling as if he had been treading on Arthur's open wounds for too long, both figuratively and literally.

"I'll be back to wash and change that in the morning," Gaius informed the prince as he gathered his things back into his bag. "You take it easy, sire. Lots of rest and try to get some fluids." He gave Arthur a reassuring pat on the arm before leaving the young man's chambers.

* * *

"You called for me sire?" Gaius entered the throne room with a respectful bow. Almost immediately after finishing up with Arthur, Sir Leon had come to retrieve him at the king's request. He felt his blood boil when he saw that the troll Katrina was at Uther's side, something that did not result in any good as of late.

The smell in the court should have been the first clue to her presence.

"Yes I did," Uther responded, sipping on a chalice of wine. It was getting to be later in the evening, and Gaius wondered what sort of business the king was addressing at this time of day.

Katrina grinned at Gaius, a malicious and knowing grin that was probably always on the face of a troll, but no doubt forebode something deeper with the queen.

"I need you to do me a favour," The king said. "What do you have in those cupboards of yours that would keep a man… accommodating?"

Gaius frowned. "A drug sir?"

Uther nodded. "Yes. I need something that would… prevent a man from struggling, but not necessarily knock him out. Do you have such a thing?"

The physician's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. "Sire, what is this for?"

Uther's face took on an apologetic smile, and it was almost hard to tell that the man was enchanted. Except, of course, for the disgusting wart-infested, rot of a creature at his side. "I know, my friend, that you are fond of my son, and that this is going to be hard to hear."

The fact that Uther was trying to be kind to him sent off a huge warning bell inside of Gaius, and he looked back and forth from Katrina's evil grin to the king's gentle smile in a hidden panic. "Sire?"

"Last night, Katrina sent for a slave trader that was resting in the town of Ichaboroughs." Icaboroughs was just outside of Camelot territory.

Gaius gasped. Slavery was illegal in Camelot; Uther had seen it that way himself. "A slave trader? Your majesty, what—"

Uther held his hand up to quiet the physician. "I know, I know, that it's a bit unorthodox, but we have decided," the king gave his wife's hand a squeeze for emphasis, "that desperate times call for desperate measures. My son has gotten out of hand, and he must be taught some obedience."

"Sire, you can't be serious…" Gaius was careful to watch his tone, no matter how shocked and scared he was. "There has to be a better way—"

"Do not question your king!" The troll's gurgling, comical voice echoed throughout the throne room.

Gaius ignored her. "Punish him any way you want here in Camelot, your majesty,"—the words coming out of his mouth sent shards of regret through his stomach, but desperate times call for desperate measures—"but… this?" He couldn't even speak it.

"It'll teach him some manners, and how to obey, and when he returns he will be all the better for it."

"_If _he returns, sire!" Gaius took a few steps forward. "I don't think you realize what you're doing, sire…"

"That's enough, Gaius," Uther's tone took on that of warning. "You will prepare Arthur a draft for the morning, so that he will not offer any resistance. The trader will be here before noon."

The physician swallowed, hesitated, but finally bowed low in compliance, knowing that there was nothing he could say that would break Katrina's hold on the king and to make the man see reason. As he turned to leave, he exchanged very worried looks with Sir Leon, who had been at his side for the entirety of the conversation. It was to be a dark day in Camelot indeed.


	5. Chapter V

**A/N**: Hello everyone! I am SO sorry that this chapter took so long to push out. I promise that I haven't forgotten about it - or you! I received so many kind messages and reviews, and would like you to know that I appreciate them all. I hope that this chapter comes as a nice surprise! I am continuing to write this story and can't wait to catch up on the new season for inspiration! Enjoy!

* * *

For the second time, Merlin watched the dawn dance around the trunks of the big, thick trees in the forest that he walked through. Even after the few hours of sleep he had allowed himself, he was exhausted. It had been a day since he had left Camelot, and he still had to find the root he had come searching for.

He had searched late into the night, using his magic to illuminate the dense shadows that captivated the forest after dark. There was no such luck, however, and he marked yet another area off of the map that Gaius had provided him with.

Now, after another short sleep, he was moving westward, which was further away from Camelot than he wanted to be.

Merlin found himself missing Arthur's companionship. Even if the warlock was only the man's servant, they spent most of their days together, whether it be training, entertaining, or in the forest hunting. In fact, being in the woods now just didn't seem right without the prince. Arthur was a natural-born hunter and all-around sportsman, and his talents extended into the often difficult forte for tracking and survival in the wild. Not that Merlin was so bad away from civilization himself. Although he and the uneven ground of the woods were often at odds, he could find his way and keep safe easily enough.

Someday, even, he wished he had the opportunity to show Arthur that he wasn't completely helpless in anything other than bring the prince his afternoon lunch.

Merlin felt a bout of protectiveness ring through him as he wondered who was taking care of the prince now, and whether or not that person was doing it properly. Merlin was not the best caretaker in the world, and he felt a sting at the thought of Arthur finding someone better in his absence.

_No, couldn't happen_, Merlin reassured himself as he brushed away some moss from the ground so that he could get a better look at the dirt. No matter how well a servant performed, he could never surpass the bond that Merlin and Arthur had, destiny or no destiny. Sometimes Merlin thought that the prince even enjoyed being told off and picked on, more than he enjoyed being feared.

Whatever was happening back and Camelot—and Merlin hoped against hope that all was going as well as could be managed back home – this was Merlin's chance to show Arthur that he wasn't just a clumsy muck-up. He was not going to let the prince down.

* * *

It had been a long night for Gaius. His heart pounded in his brain for most of the hours that went by, the noise ticking down the moments that led to the arrival of the slave trader. The thought of what Uther was about to do to his own son – sell him into slavery, for heaven's sake!—made the physician downright sick to his stomach. There had to be something that he could do.

Not long after Gaius had returned to his home, Sir Leon had slipped quietly through the front door. He had removed all of his knightly attire as if he were retiring for the evening, and he peered at the physician after closing the door behind him with dark, troubled eyes.

"Sir Leon," the physician began with a tinge of relief – although he had not been officially expecting the knight, he wasn't surprised by his appearance, only at the sudden opening of his chamber door.

"Gaius," the knight greeted back. He sighed, his eyes flitting around the room as if suddenly searching for what it was he was there for. The multitude of trinkets, vials and books flickered in the light given off by the physician's candles and fireplace.

"What of the knights?" Gaius prodded.

"The guard is ready to take action, Gaius, whenever it may be. We just do not know when—or what—opportunity shall arise."

The older man nodded and sat down at his table, motioning for the knight to do the same. "I don't think that a mutiny will be necessary yet, but I am relieved to hear that the guard is willing to do what is right to save Camelot."

"What shall we do, then?" With Arthur detained and Uther out of his mind, Sir Leon did not have anyone else to turn to. He trusted this man, though, with his experience and his knowledge, just as the rulers of Camelot trusted him.

"My charge should be back within a day with the ingredient I need for the antidote to Katrina's enchantment," Gaius informed him. "By tomorrow night, the king's mentality should be restored to its rightful state."

Leon drunk in the words, pondering, nodding. "And what of Arthur?"

_That_ Gaius wasn't so sure of. He knew that something needed to be done, as did Sir Leon—it was why he was there. But what could be done, without letting the king and queen know?

"I'm afraid, that for now, we must do as the king asks." Their eyes met, much like earlier, their worry no less than before. Sir Leon nodded his agreement, albeit begrudgingly. Both of their thoughts swept to the dark fate that had fallen upon the prince. It was their duty, and their driving need, to help Arthur reclaim Camelot.

"Can you spare any of your men, without the king and queen noticing?" Gaius asked after a moment.

Sir Leon nodded. "It is not hard to get things by the king these days, my friend."

"I think that it may be a good idea to send a few knights after Arthur. As much as I want them to overtake those—animals—he will be with, word will be sent back to the king if that happens. Have your men follow the prince and make sure that we know where he is at all times. Keep open lines of communication. We may have to wait until Uther is back to his old self to move, but at least then we shall know what's become of Arthur."

Sir Leon readily agreed and swiftly got up from the table. "I shall prepare a small troupe at once, to wait outside of the town until the traders leave Camelot. From there they can follow as far as they need to."

Gaius got up and shook the knight's hand. "Thank you, Sir Leon, for remaining loyal to the crown. Even though it doesn't really feel that way, at the moment."

The knight squeezed the old man's hand back. "I'll do anything for Camelot, my friend. As I know you would."

"Good luck, and be safe."

* * *

The bells of the clock tower were chiming their way to eight. It was a deep, chilling sound, unwarmed by the rising sun and heard by all. The castle towered over the courtyard, preventing the morning's glow from dissolving away the night's dew.

There was a rather large assortment of citizens gathered around the courtyard; word of the morning's unholy visitors had spread like wildfire. Although many had expected a cruel joke or a rashly exaggerated tale spread by word-of-mouth, most were shocked to discover that in the heart of Camelot, there was indeed a carriage made of a cage, and three unruly-looking men who did not belong.

Slave traders.

King Uther was selling Prince Arthur to slave traders.

If the people of Camelot hadn't already feared magic, then the fact that a disgusting troll was now at the heart of the town's rulings would have sent hate through their hearts. But they did fear magic, and hate it, and above all, never wanted to speak of it again.

Word-of-mouth had brought the tale of the slave traders to the people, but it had also brought something else to them. Rumour had it that there was an agenda to overthrow the stinking, ugly troll that sat in the queen's seat, and to bring peace back to the town.

When news of this new hope-inspiring tale reached Gaius' ears, he couldn't help but smile despite himself. If nothing else in life could be certain, then one could always count on the gossip of the townsfolk. It was a much-needed conversation in a kingdom currently plagued by strife.

The physician stood at the castle doors, at the top of the staircase, standing respectfully with his hands together as the royal guard escorted Arthur past him. The sight of the prince pierced his heart with sadness. As he had been told to do, Gaius had prepared a draft for Arthur late into the night after Sir Leon had left. When he had received word that the traders had arrived in town, he went to Arthur's chambers and insisted that he drink the concoction, for his nerves. The young man was still extremely passive, and did not think to dispute the trusted physician.

Looking at him now, it was obvious that the drug had taken effect. Sluggishly he made his way down the steps, two knights leading him by the arms. He was dressed in his favorite jacket and a handsome blue shirt, looking to all as a prince should. But his hair was unruly, and his eyes were sleepy yet wild. Shackles kept his hands bound together in front of him, and it was an awful sight to see.

Even though Arthur most likely knew by now what was happening to him, he had neither the strength nor the support to do anything about it.

Gaius prayed that one day the prince would forgive him for what he had done.

Uther followed the escorts out into the courtyard, Katrina by his side. The only thing keeping the physician from killing her himself was the fact that Merlin would be home at any moment, and they could then finish the potion to break Uther's enchantment.

The king would want to take his own vengeance, afterall.

But if all else failed, Gaius wasn't the only person willing to take matters into his own hand, and forcibly remove the queen from her throne.

The troupe of knights and royalty met the traders in the middle of the courtyard. The king shook hands with one of the men, a movement that sent a bolt of rage through Gaius' being.

"Your invitation has taken us by surprise, sire," the trader spoke. He was a tall and wide man with black curly hair and an equally black and curly beard. He had a large scar on his forehead and dark eyes, which flicked curiously to the troll standing by Uther's side.

"Yes, well," Uther, for some reason, seemed to hesitate a little bit. At that moment, Gaius caught sight of something that flashed red on the king's chest – his medallion? "Times are changing, and our kingdom must change along with it. Who might you be?"

"I am Nigel Stoel, and these two are my helpers, Than and Duncan." He motioned to the other two traders; one was dark-haired and handsome, with sharp green eyes, and the other was a bit older and darker-skinned, with one blind eye and a completely bald head. Both were staring unabashedly at Katrina and her unhidden ugliness.

"This—" Uther said pointedly to the two traders, noticing their looks, "is my wife Katrina. It was her idea to bring you to Camelot."

Stoel frowned in confusion, but wisely did not comment on the king's odd choice of a bride. "It must be a hard decision to give up a son, especially one so talented and well-known." The trader looked over at Arthur, who was blearily staring at the ground, just behind the king. "He must have done something horrible to the kingdom."

"Indeed." Uther took Arthur by the arm and led him forward. The prince nearly tripped on his own feet, but even after righted, his eyes remained unfocussed and lowered. "He has been sedated, he should give you no trouble."

"And he should fetch a very handsome price, my lord." Stoel bowed. "I thank you for this honour."

Uther ignored him and turned to Arthur. He took his son's hand and shook it, holding it as he spoke. "I hope that one day you see that what I am doing is what is best for you, my son."

"Yes, yes, he will!" Katrina's pig-like voice cut through the air, and she pushed Arthur away from Uther's grasp and towards the traders. "Let's get on with it, shall we?"

Gaius frowned as he noticed a look of pain shoot onto Uther's face; it looked as if he were about to protest. But just like before, the king's hesitation was only for a moment, and his composure returned as if nothing had happened.

The physician knew he had just seen the workings of the enchantment.

Uther nodded to the traders. "Leave these lands, and do not come back. This has been a one time deal; your services will no longer be required."

Stoel bowed once more. "Of course, my lord." He motioned towards his men. "Get him into the back."

One of the men - Than, the younger one - pulled something from off of the carriage and stepped forward towards Arthur. It was a collar, intricate in detail and made of steel and bronze. The man lifted the prince's chin and snapped the ring in place, teeth-like clamps locking the closure from being removed by anything but a key.

This was actually happening. Arthur was being taken from them.

_Oh please Merlin_, Gaius begged in his mind, _please hurry_.


End file.
